All For Love
by Chianna
Summary: If one woman could love two men, how far would those men go for the love of one woman? Some Henry and Mike whumping, but all for a good cause.
1. Prelude To Battle

Harpies. Why did it have to be harpies?

Henry was dressed more for clubbing, in a burgundy silk shirt, black leather jacket and black jeans, than for vanquishing repulsive hell-spawn. The 500-year-old vampire had run-ins with these creatures in the past. Besides having two inch claws, sagging grey skin and moldy wings, they were pretty much naked. Imagine seeing your great, great, great grandmother in her coffin after, oh let's say 150 years, and you get the picture. Maybe you'd even understand the oedipal urge to gouge out your own eyes. He had a sadistic satisfaction in knowing this was Mike Celucci's first time running into these noxious creatures.

Celucci gave Henry a quizzical look when he noticed the slow, enigmatic smile spreading across the vampire's face. Justifiably, the vampire's smile did nothing to reassure the detective.

Oblivious to the undercurrents swirling around her, Vicki was totally on task. "All you guys really have to do is keep those two harpies occupied while I sneak upstairs and get the ceremonial knife."

"Keeping the harpies busy sounds a little bit more complicated than you make it sound, Vic." Mike added wryly. He was off duty, wearing jeans and a crisp white shirt, though sporting the ever present tan duster. Henry couldn't quite manage to hold back a smile, and silently he was in agreement with Mike's assessment.

They walked across the rain slicked street to a side entrance of the warehouse. It took little time for the harpies to appear.

"Holy crap," explained Mike as he saw the harpies descend on them like bombers on a run. They were just as Henry remembered them. Gray scaly skin barely covered the bones of their long torsos. Their faces resembled dusty Halloween masks, pulled tautly over razor thin cheekbones and pointy chins. They screeched like raptors, exposing mouths full of conical teeth that looked like they spent every night filing them to sharp points.

Henry took a sidelong glance at the cop and drolly remarked, "Maybe I should've mentioned that they are a bit hard to kill." Mike had already drawn his gun and pumped an entire magazine of bullets into the harpies - with no effect.

"That would have been really helpful to know before we entered the warehouse, blood boy." Mike snapped back

"I only know two ways of killing them. Either we cut off their heads, or we can kill them with lead. I think it has something to do because they fly and it's heavy. Too bad they don't make bullets out of lead anymore." Henry pulled out his sword in the scabbard hidden under his dark jacket.

Mike glanced at the vampire and rolled his eyes. "You could've told me we were going to stop at Swords-R-Us before we got here." He glanced around frantically, spotting a pipe a good 3 feet long. "I sure hope this thing is made a lead, if it's not, it should still do to put a dent in that thick skull of yours Fitzroy."

While the boys were having all this fun, Vicki decided it was the perfect time to climb up the catwalk that led to the office on the rear wall of a warehouse. She wasn't sure what she was going to run into, but she was hoping that it was not another Harpy. Of course it could always be worse. What was that fire demon in the Lord of the Rings? Oh right, a Balrog. She wondered if Seattle had dealt with one of those suckers before. It amazed her how much she had learned since getting her demon tats. But seriously, she was sure she would have heard about a balrog attack. Better to file that one away to ask Henry later, she mused to herself.

Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, Vicki turned the knob on the door at top of the stairs very slowly.

* * *

Mike decided he was not having fun. The pipe was damned heavy and his arm was beginning to feel the strain. He'd need rotator cuff surgery if this kept up. He had to admit that the pipe had its advantages. Given that the harpies were airborne, Mike was able knock his harpy back. Problem was, this strategy was merely defensive. He didn't believe he was making any headway to vanquishing this particular spawn from hell. 

Henry was having his own problems. His sword was shorter than Mike's pipe – Mike had to smile at that thought. The harpy had the annoying habit of winging just beyond the vampires reach. Mike had to admit, Henry could move as fast as lightning and given the way he could jump, the detective decided he would rather not play the vamp one-on-one in basketball.

Henry had a strategy. The problem was the harpy's head was not cooperating. Every time, he thought he was in range, his winged nemesis would take one beat of her wings throwing her back out of his reach. The draft from her flight backward would drive him back too. Henry's undoing came during one such pas a deux.

TBC...

Tell me what you think. This puppy is all written except for the last chapter. Inspire me!


	2. Once More Into the Breach

**Author's note:** Thank you so much for those who took time to put mouse pointer to button and posted a review! Yes, this is a a kind of continuation of my earlier story, Brothers of Blood more in the sense of the developing relationship (don't read any slash into that, lol) and in some ways, parallels and is inspired by the evolution of Henry and Mike's relationship/sort of friendship or at the very least mutual respect/admiration that the two men have for each other as Tanya Huff's stories progress. Many thanks go to her for creating such memorable characters. Hope your enjoying this. A little action now...

**Chapter 2: Once More Into The Breach...**

**_But when the blast of war blows in our ears,_**

**_Then imitate the actions of a tiger, _**

**_Stiffen the sinews and the blood,_**

**_Disguise fair nature with hard-favored rage;_**

**_Then lend the eye a terrible aspect._ - Henry V -** William Shakespeare (Think he had our Henry in mind?)

* * *

Henry's last jump to try and get a shot at separating the Harpy's head from its body ended in disaster. Blown back yet again by the gusts coming from the beat of the creatures wings, Henry's foot touched down off balance on some of the rubble on the floor. Whether it was another pipe or just some loose rocks didn't really matter as whatever it was rolled quite effectively out from under his foot. The vampire lost his balance and slammed against the wall behind him. Stunned, Henry did not bring the sword up to defend himself in time. 

The Harpy, seizing the advantage, pounced on the fallen vampire, raking razor sharp claws across his chest. Mike could not clearly see what had happened to Henry, but the vampire's shout of surprise was laced with pain. Stepping to one side for a clearer view the detective saw the vampire grasp his chest protectively and slide slowly down the wall. Sensing victory, the harpy moved in on Henry with its right hand raised. Mike was sure that it would take the fallen vampire's head off with its next strike.

Without thinking, Mike yelled, "Henry!"

Tossing the pipe up and grasping it like a javelin, Mike heaved the pipe at the Harpies chest with a force that would make an Olympic athlete proud. The javelin flew true to its mark, piercing the harpy through its back and out its chest just like a butterfly specimen. The image lasted for only an instant. The harpy's mortal howl was followed by its spectacular disintegration into a shower of dust that fell all around the vampire. Guess it was lead, Mike thought with grim satisfaction.

It was a very close thing. Mike only had a moment to register that Fitzroy was still not moving when a powerful backhand struck the detective in the chest. He had a moment to register one very ticked off Harpy before he felt his feet leave the ground as his not insubstantial weight was launched into the air. Mike landed on a pile of discarded packing crates and pallets. He heard rather than felt a loud crack almost like a gunshot. White hot pain moved up his thigh, taking his breath away and leaving only a sick feeling in his gut.

His situation became more depressing as Mike realized the surviving harpy was closing the distance between them. Not to mention he had no weapon. He tried to move off the pile of splintered wood. Pain that caused sparks of light to filter through his vision stopped his retreat cold. The monster was only feet away when Mike glanced over to where he last saw the vampire. Fitzroy was no longer on the ground where he had fallen.

"Fitzroy," he shouted hoarsely. Under his breath, he added, "Where the hell are you?"

Grabbing pathetically at one of the splintered pieces of wood, Celucci tried his best to prepare to defend himself.

The harpy was now close enough that Celucci could count the hairs on her chin. Man, he was sure a woman would be the death of him. When he'd thought that in the past, he'd envisioned Vicky's face and not this creature before him now.

"Right here, detective," he heard Henry shout. But Mike did not see the vampire right away. What he did see was the Harpy coming toward him suddenly convulse. On its grotesque face was the look of shock mingled with a seriously large dose of impotent rage.

The tip of Henry's sword blossomed from the harpy's neck like a newly sprouted blade grass. Mike's moment of relief was short-lived as the harpy's body, pointy-side first, seemed to be heading straight for him. Morbid curiosity was the only thing keeping his eyes on the body as it fell toward him. Finally, he could see Fitzroy on the Harpy's back, both hands grasping the blade like fang faced Captain Ahab riding the great white Moby Dick to their mutual destruction. To Mike, it was a magnificent and rather alarming site. As Corinne would say, Henry was all "vamped" out. His eyes were coal black and with his fangs bared, Mike was just glad that Henry was on his side.

At the last possible minute, the vampire shifted his weight to the side, viciously yanking the sword, severing the harpies head and causing the body to fall harmlessly to Mike's right. Henry would have landed on the harpy if it had not disintegrated in midair. His landing was far from cushioned and more than a little messy. Most of vampire's expensive clothing was covered in a thin layer of harpy dust. Fitzroy landed on his side facing away from Mike.

Mike looked over from his vantage point on top of the pile of pallets, and felt a twinge of concern for Fitzroy. The vampire was still facing away from him in the pile of Harpy dust. He had not moved or spoken. Mike held his injured leg to steady it and attempted to roll off the pile of wood and see what he could do for Vicki's partner. Mike regretted the maneuver almost as soon as he began but his weight and momentum carried him off the pile to fall jarringly to the floor. White hot pain twisted his insides. Closing his eyes, the detective took deep breaths through his nose and held himself motionless until the urge to toss his lunch had passed.

Though the vampire had not moved, Mike clearly heard him say, "That was a spectacularly ill–advised thing to do." With that he turned over to lie on the ground face up, still not making eye contact with Celucci.

"I thought you were dead. Too late I realized that you already are." The gashes across Henry's chest looked wretched. Henry seemed to be in a great deal of pain himself. Celucci noted his short panting breaths and even more pallid complexion. The vampire had one arm drawn protectively over his chest. Shocked, Mike thought he saw the glint of bone through one of the deeper gashes.

Working on a tear on his beloved duster, Mike ripped a large piece of fabric, folded it and leaned over to press the cloth to the vampire's wounded chest.

A hint of surprise tinged Fitzroy's voice as he noted, "You saved my life, detective."

"Yeah…What was I thinking?" Celucci's sarcasm seemed toned down a bit. For some reason, Henry realized that he did not mind the detective's sarcasm tonight. Reluctantly, he saw a man before him who lived his life by the old code, like the knights that predated his own time. Protect the weak and preserve the right. By his father's reign, political expediency and just plain greed had undermined any broad-based culture of chivalry – if it had ever existed in more than just stories. Henry had to respect the detective for qualities he so rarely saw evident in humanity now. It was hard to dislike the smartmouthed detective, but it did not mean Henry would stop trying.

**TBC...**

Don't keeping me waiting. I'd love to hear what you think of this so far...


	3. Sacrifice of Blood

Sorry for the delay, this was already written as well as the next chapter, but if you can believe it I forgot to post. Please review if you think this is worthy of continuing.

**Chapter 3: Sacrifice of Blood**

The vampire was kneeling next to the detective, thick dark drops of blood dripped slowly from his chest wound. Any other man would be laid out next to Celucci. Mike looked over again at Henry. The vampire was removing his belt, a belt he was sure cost more than everything the detective was wearing. The vampire wrapped the belt around Celucci's thigh, buckling it loosely and twisting a large sliver of wood to close the impromptu tourniquet. Celucci groaned.

"Detective, can you hold this – loosen it every few minutes. I want to check your leg." Celucci looked quizzically up at the vampire but bent forward far enough to grasp the wood and maintain the pressure. Henry noted the detective's silent acquiescence to the request and the unfocused look in his eyes. Taking a small knife from an ankle sheath, Henry cut Mike's pants at the point where the blood was centered and winced at what he saw. As he suspected, the detective had a compound fracture of the femur. The jagged edge of the broken bone had torn through the skin of his thigh and caused the bleeding. Henry breathed in the coppery sent of blood. He tried breathing through his mouth - big mistake. The sent was so strong - he could taste it, driving his need to a fever pitch. Tearing more of Celucci's coat he quickly created a bandage to slow the bleeding and immobilize the bone. Henry knew every move he made had to be agony for Vicki's friend, but the only indication of how much pain the human was in showed in the white-knuckle grip the detective had on the tourniquet.

When finished, Henry almost jumped back wrapping his arms around himself as he sat on the floor at arm's length from Mike, rocking back and forth. "Celucci, don't forget you need to release that tourniquet for a short time every few minutes or you'll lose that leg." Not surprisingly the detective complied with rapid action, unwinding the belt by one twist to allow blood to flow to his lower leg. Sixty seconds later he twisted the belt tight once again.

"Fitzroy, uh… thanks. Are you going to be ok?"

Henry eyed the detective, gauging how much truth he was willing to share with the detective. "I am very… hungry. My body can not heal until I … feed." Though Henry's chin dipped to rest on his chest, he glanced at the detective though long lashes. The detective looked down at his leg and all the blood, his blood and at the vampires hands stained red after tending the wound.

Mike realized the true strength of the vampire's will maintaining a check on Fitzroy's own overwhelming need. Reluctantly, he came to the conclusion that the vampire's simple actions of aid in the context of his need were truly selfless - even heroic. Shifting to get a more comfortable position, Mike tried to stifle a gasp of pain. The vampire's sensitive hearing was not fooled.

"I can ease this for you – if you'll let me?"

"How? Hit me over the head with the pipe? Rather you didn't. It's covered in harpy guts."

As if suddenly realizing what Fitzroy was offering, the detective added with mild outrage, ""Fitzroy, I told you none of that vampire mind meld crap again."

"Vulcans do the mind meld crap as you put it. Vampires are more subtle. I wouldn't need to touch you…" Henry had to smile at the outraged look on the detectives face.

The sarcastic reply Celucci was ready to launch at Henry, died on his lips as they both heard Vicky holler in surprise and yell, "Where are you guys?"

Fitzroy staggered to his feet as the detective tried to lever himself to a seated position, the blood stain on Celucci's pant leg spreading alarmingly. The impossibility of what he was doing registered on Celucci's face as he looked over to the foot of the stairs connecting to the metal catwalk that lead to the office Vicki was in. Henry held his arm still protectively across his chest. Hunched over like an old man, he stumbled toward the stairs.

It did not even take a split second for Mike to decide on their only option. "Fitzroy, you won't make it up those stairs, you need to… feed first." Henry noted the detectives struggle to find the right most inoffensive word for how the vampire sustained himself.

In profile, Mike could see Henry pause and close his eyes for just a fraction of a second before turning fierce eyes on the detective.

"You do not know of what you ask. You are already going into shock. My need is great detective. What if I cannot stop myself? And what, indeed, if I do stop on time? You could still die of shock and blood loss." The vampire's voice rang with fierce authority. Mike could see in Henry in this moment the son of a king. He could pull rank as well.

"Fitzroy," the detective continued in a gentler, almost pleading tone, "I know all that." Mike proffered his wrist palm up – a gesture that most would interpret as submissive - it instead seemed rather imperious – like a king offering a ring to be kissed. Henry fell to his knees – whether out of weakness or acquiescence – Mike could not tell - so close the detective could see the vampire's body trembling. Another resounding crash sounded from above. Mike's voice become a hoarse, desperate whisper, "Henry…please. She needs us. I can't do anything for her… but help you."

Henry reached for the detective's offering and looked the detective in the eye with a fierce intensity as he bit down with speed and efficiency. The moment was only marked by a sharp intake of breath on Celucci's part. Henry could feel the blood and very life force of the fallen man build back his own – knitting severed muscle and skin, replacing lost blood. Henry felt this youngster's heartbeats like a soft thrumming under his lips grow dangerously slow. Henry could risk taking no more from the detective, though his wounds were not fully healed. It would have to be enough, he thought fiercely. Licking Mike's wrist to coagulate the blood from the puncture wounds, Henry eased Mike's frozen grip on the wood splinter the tourniquet. His saliva was being transported in Celucci's bloodstream and slowing the leg wound's bleeding. In a soft soothing voice you'd use for a child, Henry spoke softly. "Michael, rest now. You're bleeding has stopped."

Unfocused eyes looked up at Henry, "Go." The detective's eyes closed. "Fitzroy, please… help her." Before the second word left his mouth, the vampire was gone, moving with almost untraceable speed.

TBC…


	4. Sacrifice of the Heart

**Authors note: **Maybe only 1 in 50 folks that read a chapter post a review so that makes the following peeps very special indeed:** moonjat54, hermyam, ****Cheyennes****, ****BELOVEDbyWAR****, ****valentine123****, ****Kishu'sKawaiiNeko****, apassionatetruth, ****Rolange****. **Thank you for the time that you take out of your day to "push the button" as moonjat54 put it. You may not know how much it means to the authors to get any feedback – unless, you are an author too… and then I KNOW you know what I'm talking about!

**Chapter 4: Sacrifice of the Heart**

Even in Vicky's jaded experience, what she saw before her clawed at her heart. A little girl no older than six was lying tied up on the desk. Seemingly drugged, Vicky was relieved to see the child's chest rise and fall . From the looks of the woman hovering over the child either she was strung out, or the magic she was practicing to summon the harpies and whatever else she wanted from hell was seriously draining whatever humanity she had left. Greasy hanks of hair fell in disarray around the woman's emaciated face. Her clothes were grubby and looked like rummage sale cast offs. Eyes so light a gray one could only see pupils stared back at Vicky.

Vicky sprang into the room, the sword Henry lent held out in front of her menacingly. "Get away from her, you bitch. Didn't anyone ever tell you not to bring a knife to a sword fight?"

Vicky was feeling pretty good about her chances of a short-lived battle with this pathetic creature when, much to her surprise, stunted silvery wings stretched out from the scrawny creature's back. With a few powerful beats of the hairless, skin-covered wings, this junior harpy wannabe slammed into Vicky with enough force to throw her against the wall and jar the sword out of her hand. It clattered harmlessly to the floor a few feet away.

Suddenly, Vicky was not as optimistic about her chances of a quick end to this fight. And where the hell were Henry and Mike anyway?

* * *

When Henry breached the small office, his eyes took on the whole scene. A little girl lay unconscious on a table in the center n of the room. No human could tell this from just a glance but he could hear her heartbeat as loud as if her chest lay beneath his ear. Vicki was on the opposite side of the room. The fight had obviously been heroic. Wreckage was strewn about the room. But Vicki was getting the worst of it now. She was bent over a low table and the creature above her was trying to press home and athame – the same ceremonial dagger the creature had intended to use on the child was now dangerously close to Vicki's throat.

Henry was possessed by a terrible fury. What Celucci made him do, what he had to do and how sure he was of how Vicki would feel about him when she found the detective, made anger run like white hot molten metal though his veins. Even with his wounds only partially healed, Henry grabbed the creature by its wings and threw it clear across the room with a strength powered by equal measure of hatred of the no win circumstances he found himself in and love for the aggravatingly captivating woman he had to save.

The creature hit the wall, taking down some shelves, contents falling in a heap on the floor around the splintered wood. Henry blurred as he crossed the room and swooped to pick up the fallen sword that Vicki lost in the first attack. The half harpy barely had time to recover. It was just getting to its feet as the vampire drew the sword back over his right shoulder and swung the blade with all his might. The cut was so clean the harpy's head rested on its shoulders for a moment before toppling off. It was dust before it hit the ground.

Vicki crossed the room and threw her arms around the around the vampire. A soft amused smile flitted across Vicki's face. "My hero," she purred with saccharine sweetness. Looking down at the shreds of Henry's shirt and still damp bloodstains, Vicki sobered immediately. With false lightheartedness, she queried, "Henry, where is the other half of the dynamic duo? I bet Mike hated being left in your dust." She was begging him wordlessly to answer her with equal lightheartedness. The smile started to melt from her face as Henry looked at her, failing to respond to her gentle teasing.

"Vicki, Mike saved my life." Henry could see the clouds of concern forming across her face. Vicky had delivered bad news to victim's families as a police officer often enough to recognize the tone and countenance of someone about to deliver life changing news.

"Vicky, he was badly injured…" His use of the past tense hung like a shroud in the air between them for just a moment. Henry did not get to finish the sentence, didn't get to voice his regret, try to explain. Really he hadn't expected to. Vicki had only paused for a moment, before she ran from the room, trailing hollow ringing notes as her feet struck each metal stair in double time. Henry scooped up the child and followed her at a slower pace. He was in no hurry to face Vicki after she saw the detective.

* * *

Henry tried to take in the scene dispassionately. Celucci was lying on the ground. His face was so pale that paired with the lightness of his hair, he could have been the statue of the fallen Adonis with the mourning Diana kneeling beside him. Returning to his car parked at the curb he placed the child on the front seat. Why not break a few more laws, he thought. He was certain that they would have to lay Celucci on the back seat. He returned to face the music.

Vicky's experienced hands searched for injuries - noting the obvious, looking for the hidden. When she came to the all too familiar wound pattern on Mike's wrist, she paused for just a moment. Henry could see Vicky's whole body stiffen.

Henry felt impossibly old and weary. He knew the look he would see in her eyes. He was not disappointed. Her accusing gaze pinned him in place. The crushing sense of loss choked any words of explanation in his throat.

"Henry, how could you? What the hell were you thinking?"

If Henry was a rapier, Vicky could sometimes be like a club. There was no elegance to her approach. He loved her because she always rang true as a bell – never had an agenda. The downside was always that her feelings were always raw, her reactions blunt and almost universally unchecked. Five hundred years of pride and dignity replaced despair. She should know him better by now. He could not lower himself to defend his actions. Bitterly, he decided - _Let her think what she will_.

Imperiously, Henry managed to move her out of the way and reached down to pick up Celucci as if the 6"4" inch detective was just as light as the sleeping child.. "Vicki, our energies would be better spent getting the good detective to the hospital, don't you agree?" Vicky's mouth opened in surprise for a moment and then slammed shut. "Get in the back of my BMW and I'll hand him to you. We'll get to the nearest hospital faster than if we waited for EMTs to arrive. Vicky turned her back on him and stalked to the car. If she had been looking at the vampire, Vicki would have seen him stagger and wince as the detective's weight settled painfully against his only partially healed chest.

* * *

Vicky ran into the emergency room of Rampart General Hospital. "I have a police officer in the back of my car seriously injured and a child that may have been drugged. I need gurneys and assistance ASAP." Assistance from all quarters scrambled to her aid. An orderly with a gurney, two paramedics that looked to be taking a coffee break after delivering a patient, raced after the gurney. Vicki was right behind them. As one of the paramedics opened the door, he yelled, "Aw shit, man. It's Mike Cellucci. Get a doc out here quick. He's in a bad way."

Vicki followed the team. They whisked the detective out of the car, onto the gurney and into the first available exam room. The medical jargon washed over her she, spoken in commanding tones in rapid fire progression. Blood typing was not needed, she learned, because the detective was a regular blood donor at the hospital. IVs with medicine and blood were strung up near the head on the exam table.

The hospital staff recognized Vicky from her days on the police force and did not drive her out of the emergency room. Most knew her story – knew that she had been Celucci's partner. Some may have even guessed at their closer relationship. Stay quiet, keep out of the way – and she could stay. Orders were placed for an OR to be readied. There she could not follow. An orthopedic specialist and vascular surgeon were paged. All the things she wanted to shout were choking her. Save his leg, save his life. _Save him for me_. She chewed on her lip to stop from shouting out orders and suggestions.

Suddenly, one of the nurses shouted, "We have blood on his arm and side, does anyone see an injury? I've got nothing." The attending and nurses scrambled to turn Mike to one side to check his back for injuries. It was not Mike's blood. Worried faces immediately looked over at Vicky, checking for wounds. She shook her head. It was not her blood.

Realization dawned with startling clarity, waking Vicki from fog of worry and regret that had settled over her in her self imposed silence. The picture of Henry carrying Mike to the car came to Vicki unbidden. She remembered Henry's shredded shirt. Oh God. Henry was hurt too. Had she judged him too hastily? Vicki realized that she had not seen Henry since she left the car to get help in the emergency room.

Vicki ran out of the emergency room and outside to check the drive in front of the ER entrance. Henry and his car were long gone.

TBC…


End file.
